


Ice Cream Man

by dollylux



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Extremely Underage, Fate & Destiny, Feminization, M/M, Misuse of Ice Cream, Romantic Porn, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 13:30:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11487375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: It's Jared's birthday, and Jensen wants to indulge him.





	Ice Cream Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [homo_pink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/homo_pink/gifts).



> For my favorite girl on her birthday. I love you the most<3<3
> 
> Contains flashbacks in which Jensen is seven and engages in sexual activity. Just so you know.
> 
> Title from Tom Waits.

“Your birthday’s coming up.”

“Hn.”

“Twenty-seven,” Jensen says with an impressed sigh, turning over onto his stomach so he’s laying half on top of Jared, trapping his spit-shined, soft dick between their bellies and against his own much tinier one. He looks up at Jared who’s dozing after their two-hour fuck that made the bus rock as it flew down the highway and that left Jensen absolutely convinced that it took this time.

He’ll steal a pregnancy test from Wal-Mart later just to be sure.

“Noo,” Jared mumbles, one arm flung over his eyes, the other one stroking sweeter than he realizes at the sweaty honey of Jensen’s hair. “Seventeen forever.”

Jensen grins, the adoration on his face only present because Jared isn’t looking at him to see it.

“Not seventeen,” he says softly, petting at Jared’s hairy chest, circling his nipple and soaking up the steady rhythm of Jared’s heart beneath his palm. “I wasn’t there when you were seventeen.”

“You were in my dreams,” Jared replies, eyes still hidden, but a grin spreads wide across his mouth, the twin points of his tongue pressing against the back of his teeth. Jensen snorts, throwing one leg over Jared’s body to climb on top of him again, the muscles in his thighs and ass and back burning with overuse, his cunt as sloppy as a old whore’s and leaking a creamy puddle on Jared’s empty balls. He stretches out on top of his man like a kitten, wrapping his arms around his neck and arching his back when both of Jared’s hands travel down the length of his spine to grip his slap-bruised ass.

“Liar,” Jensen says just to keep up the conversation, licking his lips when Jared starts to play with his asshole, smearing in the come oozing out and fingering the swollen pink rim. Jared’s eyes are open now, staring right up at Jensen, and there are one thousand unborn stories and quiet sorrows there, trapped in the strange swirls of colors that Jensen’s never seen before in anybody else’s eyes, not ever. He brings his hand down in a firm slap on Jared’s nipple, making him grunt and making his dick throb with twisted interest under Jensen. “Don’t change the subject.”

“From what?” Jared asks. He feeds three fingers right up into Jensen’s cunt and Jensen forgets his own goddamn name for a minute, just keeps his ass popped and his bottom lip between his teeth while Jared curls his fingers in deep thrusts against Jensen’s insides, pushing at his still swollen g-spot and making his dick leak between their stomachs.

“Doooon’t,” Jensen whines because he knows Jared likes when he’s a whiny brat. He earns a slap on the ass that makes his booty bounce, and he’s pretty sure he should win a Nobel Peace Prize or something because he actually, legitimately _climbs off his Daddy_ and tucks himself into the corner of the bunk, pouting up at him even as a smile pulls at his mouth.

Jared’s lazy-grinning again, and he sucks his fingers clean of his own spunk before making a grab for the cigarettes trapped under Jensen’s thigh.

“My muscles hurt,” Jensen tells him, unfolding one leg and stretching it out over Jared’s stomach, his toes very near his face.

“Where?” Jared asks, exhaling away from Jensen and toward the tiny crack in their curtain.

He sticks his bottom lip out and points to the backs of his thighs that feel strained from being shoved up in half for nearly two hours and dicked to within an inch of his life. Jared smirks and pushes himself to sit up, leaning back against their nest of pillows and tugging Jensen closer by his ankle.

He melts back against the mattress when Jared starts to deep massage the scrawny, tight muscles in his thigh.

“Feel good?” Jared sounds indulgent, like a good daddy. Jensen wants to ride his face.

“Birthday,” he says instead because, well. Nobel Peace Prize winner and all.

“You wanna pop outta a cake for me?”

Jensen twitches when Jared hits a particularly hurty spot.

“I’d just eat it all and you’d be mad at me.”

“Pool party?”

Jensen cracks an eye and peeks up at him.

“If I saw you lookin’ at another boy in swim shorts, I’d drown him,” he reminds him.

“Hmm. Well, I don’t really want anybody to _die_ on my birthday, I guess,” Jared agrees, fingers traveling up to the jizz-slicked insides of Jensen’s thighs where he’s really tender.

“What about a fantasy?” he asks, grabbing the stuffed pig Jared won him at a fair in Kansas last month and using him as a pillow.

“What do you mean?” The words are muffled around the cigarette caught between Jared’s teeth so he can use both hands on Jensen’s body, and he seems to be genuinely distracted by working out the knots in his poor little legs.

“I can… yanno. Do one. Or… like. Indulge in one or whatever. Like a slutty housewife.”

Jared raises an eyebrow in an almost perfect imitation of Momo.

“You already are my slutty housewife.”

“C’mon, I mean it.” He uses his crab toes to grab some of the hair on Jared’s chest and pull on it, earning him a slap on the inside of his thigh that nearly makes him moan. “Tell me. Anything. Like… legit, baby. I have, like, no limits.”

“What if I wanted to take a dump on your face?” Jared’s face is a mask when Jensen squints down at him, but Jensen refuses to take the bait.

“ _Do_ you wanna take a dump on my face?” he asks.

Jared slouches in disappointment that he didn’t gross Jensen out.

“No,” he admits in a mumble.

“Tell me,” he begs, so soft, the heel of his little foot rubbing along the heft of Jared’s dick. “Please?”

“It’s dirty,” Jared warns him.

Jensen rolls his eyes.

“You fisted me the second time I met you,” he reminds him. “I was fourteen.”

Jared’s dick pulses beneath his arch.

“God, don’t remind me,” Jared groans, reaching down to cover Jensen’s foot so he can’t move it. “I thought you wanted me to focus.”

A pause.

“And it was the third time I met you,” he adds.

Jensen frowns.

“What do you--”

“First time was outside after the show in Pittsburgh. When you had me sign your tits. Second time was in Philly. Third time was in NYC.”

Jensen feels his heart expand, pushing against his birdbone ribs.

“Daddy,” he nearly whispers.

“Anyway,” Jared says with a cough, clearing his throat. His cheeks are pink at the roundest parts. “Fantasy.”

“I’ll do anything,” Jensen reminds him, just to feel his cock shiver with the truth of it.

“I kinda want to… reenact something,” Jared starts, running the tips of his fingers along Jensen’s smooth leg now, probably not even aware he’s doing it. Jensen’s eyes laze like the spoiled little thing he is, his foot stretching like a ballerina over the length of Jared’s cock.

“Is there a story?” Jensen asks.

Fox-sharp eyes flick up to find Jensen while long fingers circle his love-bruised knee.

“I’m not a very good storyteller,” Jared says.

“Try,” Jensen suggests.

Jared nestles back into the pillows, takes a long drag of his cigarette, and stares up at their starry, stickered ceiling.

\---

Stealing cars isn’t as easy as the movies make it seem.

There are eleven hundred miles between San Antonio and the shit-town in Georgia where Daniel is buried, and Jared had gotten over hitch-hiking once and for all last year when he’d nearly been raped and killed and dumped on the interstate by a sleazy old fuck who’d seemed harmless at first.

He doesn’t know if the nasty bastard had survived when Jared finished with him and put his knife away, and he really doesn’t fucking care, even now.

This year’s anniversary trip was done in his shitbag cousin’s Bronco II, a pretty reliable hunk of metal that had gotten him all the way to Georgia and back to Texas with only minor complaining. Jeremy’s probably gonna kill him when he gets back home, but it’ll be worth it. Of course it’ll be worth it.

The drive back west had taken two days, all told, a straight shot along I-20 through four states until he’d ended up back in Texas, feeling a strange mix of burden and relief when he’d cross the stateline.

Daniel’s grave had been as comfortable of a bed as it’s always been, and he’d taken the time to plant a rose bush on this trip, wanting to give Daniel flowers that won’t just turn brown and die in a few days.

His mama had told him fall was a bad time to plant roses, but he’d brought a black cherry Floribunda rose bush and planted it beside Daniel’s grave, breathing in the scent of them the whole two days he’d spent there with him in Blairsville.

It gets harder to leave Georgia every year, and at eighteen, as a homeless dropout with a burgeoning addiction to black tar heroin, he’s not in a hurry to get back to the city where he sleeps on couches and in cars and occasionally outside in his own parents’ backyard, when the weather is nice and they go to bed early.

He finds himself leaving 20 West and exiting into a town called Richardson, a place north of Dallas that seems to have lots of high-end shopping centers and big houses, even from the interstate. And the only thing he knows about Richardson is the kid Jeremy Delle who blew his brains out in front of his class back in the 90s and inspired Eddie Vedder to write a song about him.

Once he’s--

\---

Jared stops, glancing down the length of his long body at Jensen sprawled across his legs, blinking at him with those big eyes.

“What?” he says.

“That’s where I’m from!” he tells Jared, even pointing at himself with a kelly green-tipped finger. Jared raises his eyebrows for that.

“Like… actually from Richardson? I thought you were from Dallas.”

“Dallas is just easier to say,” Jensen replies. “Just… wow. Anyway, go ahead. I’m sorry.”

He presses an apologetic kiss to Jared’s hairy ankle, and Jared relaxes back against the pillow and tries to remember where he left off.

\---

Once he’s properly lost in this sea of rich white people, he can’t help but think about how some of them might be at work this time of day and maybe leave their doors unlocked.

A couple of hours later, he’s got $800 in his duffel bag and a bellyful of leftover pot roast and potatoes, and a bunch of ugly gold and diamond jewelry that he plans on hocking as soon as he gets back to San Antonio.

The sound of an ice cream truck gets Jared’s attention just as surely as it did when he was little, and he only stops to berate himself for a single second before he flips on his signal and follows the creepily cheerful warble of the truck down a couple of streets and reluctantly when it finally turns into an elementary school.

“Don’t run!” calls an exasperated woman the second Jared opens his door, followed by the thundering of dozens of tiny feet and a chirpy song of excited children that quickly surround the ice cream truck.

Jared shuts the door to the Bronco and leans back against it, resigned to waiting out the herd of third-graders who are digging in the pockets of their jeans and jackets to find enough change for an ice cream.

The teacher eyes Jared from the other side of the chainlink fence, probably thinking the tall, starved kid with greasy hair who smells like sweat and spunk and a cemetery looks like trouble, and she’s really not wrong.

Kids start opening ice creams immediately, and the teacher has to stop glaring at Jared long enough to run back inside for napkins and wet wipes.

He approaches with a five dollar bill once most of the kids have thinned out, and there’s only one hanging around the truck but off to the side, staring longingly at the menu list of ice creams from under absurdly girly blond bangs but not making any move to buy one.

Jared almost steps up to the window where the ice cream guy and probable convinced sex offender is waiting to take more money, but the massive, sad eyes on that little baby face make Jared hesitate. He turns away from the truck and faces the kid, trying not to notice the pornstar pout on a seven-year-old mouth.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, zipping up his hoodie and kneeling down in front of the little boy.

“Mama doesn’t give me extra money anymore,” he says sadly, his voice so small and precious it makes Jared’s toes curl in his dirty boots. He wipes hard at one of his eyes, leaving it red and watery in his wake; Jared recognizes pretend-crying when he sees it.

He barely holds in a smirk.

“Why’s that?”

“She said I spend it on frilly things!” The little thing is pissed, hands going on his sassy hips, his Traci Lords pout out in full force now. “I don’t buy frilly things. I _don’t_. I only like to get candy.”

Jared glances back at the impatient ice cream dude, holding up a finger to tell him to wait.

“I think she probably said frivolous,” Jared replies.

The boy pauses, cocking his head thoughtfully.

“Is candy frivlus?”

Jared smirks, ducking his head to hide the peeked-out dimple. He’s charmed.

“Nah,” he says, standing up again and pulling out the five dollar bill. He holds it up to the boy whose eyes grow the size of Disney princesses’, the green in them sparkling with possibilities. Jared holds the bill out to the boy but just barely out of reach.

“You want it?” he asks.

The little doll licks his lips in anticipation of all the ice cream a five dollar bill can buy, and he pushes up onto his tiptoes in his light blue Converse to try and reach it. Jared lifts it up higher, full-out grinning when the boy lets out a frustrated whine.

“Answer me,” he tells him.

“Yes!” the boy snaps, stamping his foot at a complete stranger, wiggling his tiny fingers like he’s entitled to Jared’s hard-earned money and to all the ice cream he can fit in his belly.

“Jenny, c’mon!” A little brown-headed girl calls from the playground, her mouth smeared with chocolate ice cream. “It’s your turn to push me on the swing!”

“Just a minute!” the boy, Jenny apparently, yells back. He looks back up at Jared with renewed sweetness, blinking with long, dark lashes and pushing his toes together, looking like a little Lolita in such a careful, studied way that Jared is momentarily speechless.

Jenny knows how pretty he is. Jared can tell by how he’s barely not smiling at the apparently dumbstruck look on Jared’s face.

“Please?” Jenny says, soft as a lamb but with the eyes of a teenage girl.

Jared tears his eyes off of the boy, but just long enough to survey the schoolyard and to look again at the man who’s watching their every move, a maybe-witness to the impending crime Jared can feel scratching under his skin.

Jared’s almost dutiful when he speaks again; he knows how this script goes.

“And what are you gonna do for me?” he asks, holding the five close enough for Jenny’s baby fingers to graze it.

Jenny sighs and drops back down to his flat feet after a surprisingly graceful but unsuccessful attempt to steal money from a grown man.

“Whatever you want. Just… please? I hafta go back in soon. And I never get ice cream. Mama says I don’t want to get pudgy.”

He wants to punch Jenny’s mama in the mouth and spoonfeed this boy ice cream until he’s soft and round and content with it. He lowers his arm finally and puts the money within reach, and Jenny takes all of two seconds before he reaches up and snatches it from Jared’s hand, his little bowlegs taking him right up to the window of the ice cream truck.

“What’ll it be, sweetheart?” the man asks with a grin, throwing a lascivious wink at Jared that tells him that his secret will be safe with this pervert, at least.

“Two Pink Panther bars, please!” the boy chirrups, pushing up onto his tiptoes to get his elbows on the metal counter. He turns to look at Jared, his long hair hanging nearly in his eyes. He looks almost shy, subservient. “Do you want anything, mister?”

“Nah,” Jared says with a wave of his hand, letting the boy see his almost-smile this time. “Get whatever you want.”

The exchange is made quickly, and Jared refuses the change the boy tries to hand him. The guy flat-out grins at Jared before waving goodbye to them, slowly pulling out of the parking lot while his scary ass siren song plays over a speaker on top of the truck.

“C’mon,” Jenny says, looking around just as carefully as Jared had before leading him back toward the playground, and Jared has no choice but to follow. They slip in and shut the gate back behind them, and Jared follows Jenny’s bobbing blond hair and his illegal, candy apple ass along the side of the gate and down to a massive bur oak in the farthest back corner, the spot hidden by the curved angle of the yard and the slight downward hill of it.

Jenny plops right down beneath the tree and tears into the first ice cream bar, pulling out a sorry imitation of the Pink Panther’s face, complete with red bubblegum balls for his eyes. Jared sits down beside him but closer to the back corner of the fence, just in case anybody decided to peek down into the shadows while they’re here.

“Is that your favorite ice cream?” Jared asks, watching carefully as the boy’s little rosebud mouth opens and closes around the strawberry pink top of the ice cream bar. He sucks a melty piece off and nods enthusiastically as he rolls it around in his mouth, his lips already wet and creamy with it.

Jared shifts and shoves a hand between his legs to squeeze his dick as covertly as possible.

“What’s your name?” Jenny says, licking at the bar now, never once taking his eyes off of Jared as he does.

“Jay,” he tells him after a moment’s pause, figuring Jenny is a nickname, too, so they’ll at least be on even ground here. “How old are you?”

“Seven,” the boy garbles around another mouthful of ice cream. “Why? How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” Jared lies again, wanting and resisting the desire to reach out and wipe Jenny’s messy mouth clean. “So, your mama won’t let you eat ice cream, but she’ll let you wear a pink jacket?”

The boy looks down at his baby pink hoodie with a serious little frown, some of the joy slipping from his face as he’s apparently reminded of another one of his kept secrets.

“No,” he replies quietly, licking his lips clean. Finally. “This is Danni’s jacket. She’s wearing mine. We trade while we’re at school.”

“Why?” Jared asks, leaning back against the fence, wrapping his arms around his legs.

“Cause my favorite color’s pink, and that’s against the rules.”

Jared’s face falls blank.

“Rules?”

“Daddy has rules on how little boys should be. It’s on my wall, next to my dresser.”

Forget the mom. Jared’s gonna head over to Jenny’s house and gut his fuckhead of a daddy.

“What kinda rules?” he asks, wishing he’d bought this kid more ice cream.

Jenny shrugs, looking smaller than he already did before, his little shoulders pulled in as he focuses on his ice cream, his voice soft.

“No pink stuff. I have to throw away my pink crayons, too. Boys dress like gentlemen, no matter if they’re little or not.” He tugs the zipper of his pink hoodie down and shows Jared his navy blue polo shirt. “No dolls. No dressup. No playing with mama’s makeup. No playing with boys unless I act like a boy.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Jared asks, reaching out without even realizing it and tugging up the sleeves on Jenny’s hoodie so he doesn’t get ice cream on them.

“I can’t pretend to be a princess,” Jenny says glumly. “Or a queen. Or be rescued. Or tortured or killed. Or be a mommy. And boys can’t kiss me.”

Jared’s smile comes back immediately.

“Oh? Do boys try to kiss you a lot?”

“I’m real pretty,” Jenny says matter-of-factly before digging the tip of his tongue in to try and pry a gumball eye out. “Don’t you think I’m pretty?”

“Sweetheart, you’re the prettiest thing on this whole playground,” Jared tells him, and it’s a kind of religious experience watching Jenny glow under that praise, his eyes lighting up again like they had when he first tasted his ice cream. He lowers his mostly eaten bar and blinks up at Jared with a hopeful smile, two red gumball eyes clacking on his teeth inside his mouth.

“Do you really mean it?” Jenny asks, scooting a little closer to Jared now, one of his knobby knees digging into Jared’s thigh. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying,” he replies, lowering his legs and making a little more room for Jenny to get even closer, if he wants. “I knew it the second I saw you. I couldn’t tell that you were even a boy for a minute.”

“ _Really_?” Jenny says, enthralled, the ice cream melting slowly on the stick in his little hand, but his attention is entirely on Jared now. Nothing is more important than being pretty.

“Promise,” he tells him, reaching up to run a hitchhiker’s thumb over the side of Jenny’s mouth, licking the lukewarm strawberry remnants he gathers there off. “Finish your ice cream, cutie.”

Jenny grins dimple-hard, probably for the nickname, and he doubles down on his ice cream bar, eating it with relish now that he knows Jared is watching him, that Jared thinks he’s pretty. Too soon, there’s nothing left but the stick, and Jenny’s got an extra pink mouth and his eyes back on Jared.

“What do you want for the ice cream?” the little one asks, and Jared fucking swears this kid’s done this before. He looks sweet and coy and hungry, and before Jared knows it, Jenny is straddling one of his legs and sitting on his knee, the hard bone of his kneecap pressing right up between the crack of Jenny’s light-wash jeans. He holds up the second ice cream bar, still in its package, and offers it to Jared. “Do you want this?”

Jared shakes his head, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from dragging the child up into his lap.

“It’s yours,” he insists.

Jenny watches Jared for a long moment, and he only looks away to tear the package open, pulling the second bar out and licking at it immediately, seeming pleased to find that it’s already softened from being out of the freezer for awhile.

“Then what do you want?” Jenny asks, his pupils big and dark, all but absorbing the green in their safe shadows under the tree. He laps at the ice cream noisily, the wet flashes of his tongue making Jared so hard in his dirty jeans that it hurts, makes him grit his teeth where his dick is digging at the inside of his zipper.

He wants to eat this boy alive.

“That’s big,” Jenny observes, pointing between Jared’s legs while Jared drifts off into his own head, imagining what a seven-year-old pussy tastes like. Jared follows Jenny’s gaze down to his own dick that is bulging fat and undeniable under soft denim, and it shivers out slick because of Jenny’s attention.

“Yeah,” Jared grits out, reaching down to squeeze his dick, showing off how long it is, giving the boy a clear idea of its shape. “Real big. I’m just as big as you are pretty.”

Jenny smiles, charmed, not at all alarmed that he’s sitting on a stranger’s lap, eating ice cream, and staring at the guy’s massive boner.

“Why is it so hard? Mine doesn’t do that much. Only when I’m excited.” He tips his head to the side, regarding Jared thoughtfully. “Are you excited?”

“Very,” Jared agrees, shifting again but careful not to disturb the tiny weight that’s moved up to his thigh. He reaches out and clamps a big hand down on Jenny’s knee, giving it a slow squeeze.

“Why?” It sounds innocent, but it’s practically purred, and the baby’s ice cream is once again ignored in favor of Jared.

“Because I’ve got the prettiest thing in Texas on my lap, eating ice cream. And the way you lick that thing makes me think of what you could do to this.”

He rubs his dick again, fingers pressing in hard against his balls. Jenny moves even closer, so close that Jared could count the star system of freckles on the boy’s face, so close that he can smell the sweetness of his sugary breath, can feel the heat emanating off his tiny body.

“Can I see it?” Another lick of ice cream, this one real slow, green eyes holding onto Jared’s the whole time. “Please?”

Jared wouldn’t deny this little darling even if he had a conscience, and there’s sure as fuck not anything stopping him now. He thumbs and drags his pants open, reaching into them and his underwear and pulling his dick out, letting it sway heavy and angry-red between his body and Jenny’s.

“Oh, wow,” Jenny whispers, sliding out of Jared’s lap to lay on his stomach beside him, his little feet lifting to cross at the ankle behind him, ice cream held just barely above the close-cut grass. He’s only inches from Jared’s cock now, and Jared grits his teeth as his dick bobs toward Jenny like it knows exactly what it wants. “How big is it?”

“Ten inches or so,” Jared tells him, trying to play it cool, but he’s proud of his big dick. He grips the base of it and gives it a shake, making the honeydrop at the tip of it shiver and nearly fall off.

“What do you want me to do to it?” the boy asks, so close now that Jared can feel the warm huff of his breath across his burning cockhead, can practically feel the damp, tight hole of his mouth.

He’ll be mortified if he comes before Jenny can even suck him off.

“Lick it,” he tells him, reaching up with his left hand and cupping the back of Jenny’s little head, fingers sinking into thick, long strands of hair. “Just like you lick your ice cream.”

Jenny looks up uncertainly into Jared’s eyes before glancing at his melting ice cream bar and finally back at Jared’s dick, moving in closer on his elbows. He licks his lips before he finally lets his tiny, freezing cold pink tongue slide out and drag up the side of Jared’s cock from just above his fingers all the way to the tip.

Jared full body shivers for that, his fingers closing in tight on Jenny’s head, keeping him close, his teeth gritted so hard his jaw pops.

“Good boy,” he tells him with an amazing lack of air, his right hand leaving his cock to the sweet little boy licking at it so he can cup his head with both hands now and feel his movements completely. “God, that’s so fuckin--”

“Can you--” Jenny lifts up, licking his lips and looking shy, his babysoft cheek brushing warm against Jared’s cock. “Can you say ‘good girl’ instead?”

Jared’s hand goes immediately back to the base of his cock, squeezing so hard he nearly yelps, but it’s the only thing that keeps him from coming right then.

“Yeah,” he manages, petting Jenny’s hair with shaky fingers, trying to guide him back down to his dick. “Anything you want, doll. Just… just keep licking me.”

Jenny tucks back into his treat and resumes his licking, awful proprietary and eager for a seven-year-old virgin (surely to fuck), but Jared just takes that as a sign that he was meant to find this little fucking dream today.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as warmly as his heart will allow, his hips lifting in restrained, hungry little fucks. “Fuck, you’ve got such a pretty mouth, baby. Such a pretty little mouth.”

Jenny preens for that, his little back arching hard, his feet swinging happily in the air where his knees are bent and digging into the grass. He interrupts his licking only to start kissing at Jared’s cock, big, sloppy smooches all over, even down against his hairy, smelly balls that Jared yanks up desperately, all but begging for Jenny’s tongue there, too.

“Ohmygod, marry me,” he groans when Jenny laps at his straining balls, drawing a sweet giggle from the little thing and another sweet kiss to the base of his cock.

“Do wives do this for their husbands?” Jenny asks, nuzzling at Jared’s dick like he’s a kitten and it’s a petting hand, only getting back to licking when Jared tips his dick down to offer up his wide, runny slit.

“All the time,” Jared sighs, melting back against the chainlink fence when the tip of Jenny’s tiny tongue wiggles into his slit, his own hand moving up and down the fat meat of his cock as the sweetest little mouth suckles at the head of it. The sound of children playing dangerously close by completely fades, the fact that he doesn’t have anywhere to live and that everything he has right now is stolen, including this moment, all disappears, leaving only the sensations of this child against and on his body standing out in stark relief against the horror of the rest of his life.

It honest to god feels like Jenny is saving his fucking soul.

“I’ll be your wife,” Jenny whispers, slick bubbling up against his lips that he licks away immediately. His sweet mouth closes up in kisses on Jared’s knuckles every time his hand moves up, his tongue digging around to lick under Jared’s filthy fingernails. Jared’s eyes roll back in his head, his lashes fluttering, and he wishes he had the discipline to keep his eyes open and watch this, but it’s too good. This fucking third grade dream is too goddamn good.

“Suck on it, baby,” Jared tells him, twisting up a good handful of Jenny’s hair at the crown, tugging on it just enough to make it feel good, something that makes Jenny shiver against him, makes him drop his ice cream and shimmy even closer to Jared, his little heart pounding against Jared’s thigh. “As much as you can.”

That babydoll mouth opens up, laying a path of velvet warmth into heaven, and he closes his lips around Jared’s fat cock and draws him in, letting him slide over his tongue until he runs out of space. Jared pinches the inside of his wrist hard enough to draw blood just to keep from coming.

He can feel the sharp edges of Jenny’s little teeth, and he wonders dreamily how many of them are still milkteeth.

“That’s it,” he encourages, petting Jenny’s now sweaty hair back from his forehead, gathering it all up in a tiny ponytail in his fist. He’d love to put this child in pigtails and Disney princess panties and open him up on his dick, call him everything girly and delicate in the English language and fill him up with every load he makes and then explain to him where babies come from. He pushes Jenny down just a little, the head of his cock nestling into the impossible softness at the back of his throat, making him gag and tense up. “Fuck, that’s it. Good girl.”

“Help me,” Jenny gurgles around his dick, slurping up all the spit he’s leaked out onto it like he’s afraid to make a mess. (It’s probably on the list of his Daddy’s rules.) “Show me.”

“Just relax,” he tells him, knowing full well they aren’t gonna get any further down Jenny’s tiny throat, but just the thought of bulging it out is nearly enough to do him in. “Just breathe and relax and let me move you.”

Jenny nods as Jared gathers up more of his hair, holding onto it with both hands as he starts to push and pull Jenny’s little head, fucking his grade school mouth as deep as he’ll let himself go, just deep enough to make Jenny lurch and gag every few thrusts. His dick is slimy with pink, strawberry-scented mess straight from Jenny’s stomach, and he’s stunned that the little thing doesn’t seem to mind slopping on it, doesn’t mind that his face is wet with it, that he’s gagging and almost puking and he doesn’t know if Jared will force him to do more than this, more than he wants.

The trust Jenny has in him, almost more than anything, is what tips him right over the fucking edge.

“Hold on, baby girl,” Jared chokes out, hurrying to grab his cock and yank it out of Jenny’s gasping mouth. His knuckles knock into his swollen bottom lip as he jacks himself off frantically, groaning low and long in his throat as his asshole tenses and his balls pulse and his slit expands and explodes with hot splashes of thick come.

It lands perfect on Jenny’s beautiful face, striping over his open mouth, one freckled and flushed cheek, and over the long sweep of his eyelashes. The next one nails his eye again, followed by four more that hit perfectly over his trembling tongue. Jared sticks his dick back in and Jenny rushes to suckle at it, moaning contentedly as he nurses at the head of Jared’s cock, swallowing down his salty, potent jizz in easy gulps.

Jared watches him in silent amazement, only blinking when he absolutely has to. He pulls his dick out of that mouth only to gather more come on it, grinning when Jenny smiles as he runs the tip over his eye to get most of the come there. He sucks it back down happily, both his small hands gripping the base of Jared’s dick, barely meeting around the width of it. He licks and sucks at it until Jared can’t take it anymore, until he’s wincing and tugging his tiny slut off his dick and pulling him up by his hair until Jenny’s curled up in his lap.

“Close your eyes,” he whispers, his heart fluttering dangerously when Jenny giggles as he starts to lick his face clean, gathering up the rest of the spunk he’d marked him with, groaning quietly when he feels those greedy little hands slide down to play with his dick some more.

“I want it,” Jenny says softly, another pout, just like earlier with the ice cream.

Jared never thought he’d fall in love with a third grader.

He kisses the handful of a child in his lap, his mouth almost twice as big as Jenny’s, but he swears he’s never kissed somebody so hungry in all his life. Jenny opens up like a baby bird, keeping good and still so Jared can open his mouth and let the wad spill from his tongue right down over Jenny’s, licking at the boy’s chin and his throat while Jenny licks his own lips and swallows over and over.

A bell rings suddenly, shocking them both and making Jenny’s gentle, absent grip on Jared’s cock tighten. Jared hisses, growling even as he grins and leans in for another kiss that Jenny doesn’t know how to return. The little boy just licks at Jared’s mouth, lapping at his tongue and at the dirty film on his teeth, seeming completely unfazed by every bad or disgusting thing about Jared, like Jared just happens to be everything he wants.

“Was I good at playing your wife?” Jenny asks, his tiny hands cupping Jared’s scratching cheeks, his salt and sugar mouth kissing at the flicking tip of Jared’s tongue.

“You’re the best wife in the whole world,” Jared promises him, giving his less than a handful sized ass a hard squeeze with both hands before lifting the child out of his lap and standing him up beside him. “Recess is over, right?”

“Yeah,” Jenny sighs, staring resentfully at the hill obscuring the school and the rest of the students from them. “It’s math time now. We’re learning to count money.”

Jared tucks himself back into his pants and reaches up to fix Jenny’s hair, smoothing it back down and wiping off the rest of the wetness from his flushed face.

“Good,” he says, tugging the boy’s sleeves back down again and giving one last squeeze to his ass. “Learn how to count money. Hide it somewhere in your room. Any money you get. That way, you can buy stuff you like that your stupid fuckin’ parents don’t want you to have. They don’t know shit, I promise. There’s nothin’ wrong with you, you hear me?”

Jenny nods, suddenly tearful, his hands getting stuffed into the pockets of his little pink hoodie.

“Nothing,” Jared insists, moving up to his knees so that they’re mostly eye-to-eye. “Don’t ever listen to anybody who tells you that you need to be different than you are. Promise me.”

“I promise,” Jenny says, his chin trembling, moving to stand closer to Jared, practically tucking against him, like he doesn’t want to leave.

Jared smiles, trying to make this clean, less painful.

“Give your husband a kiss goodbye. He’s gotta go to work.”

Jenny breaks into a grin, throwing his arms around Jared’s neck and pressing a sweet, childish pop-kiss against his lips that Jared licks into something more sinister, ending it with a solid suck of Jenny’s bottom lip that makes the boy shiver against him, small fingers pulling at Jared’s long hair in the back.

“Bye, husband,” Jenny says with an amazing amount of bravery, even as his green eyes shimmer with a forever goodbye.

Jared touches the kid’s cheek, savoring the soft and warm of him, wishing with all of his disgusting, greedy heart that he had more time with this boy.

“Goodbye, little wife,” he replies.

Jenny takes off at a run, disappearing way too fast over the little hill and out of Jared’s line of sight. He leans back against the fence again and sighs, heavy and bereft this time. He glances over and finds most of a Pink Panther face melting in the grass near his knee, and he grabs it up, staring into his red gum eyes that he tasted first in a little boy’s mouth.

When he’s sure that the coast is clear, he stands up again on shaky legs, walking back towards the opening in the gate and eating the rest of the ice cream bar, grass and little boy spit and all.

He finds himself back in the car with enough will to drive the rest of the way home and not just straight into oncoming traffic the way he’d considered just this morning.

Jared Padalecki tries to never look back, but he can’t help but spare a glance at Dartmouth Elementary one last time before he pulls out of the parking lot and away.

 

\---

 

Jensen can’t move.

Jared finishes talking, finishes his story, and Jensen realizes he hasn’t moved in a solid ten minutes. Maybe he’s breathing, maybe, but he can’t move otherwise.

Jared cracks his eyes open, his dick standing up completely hard and dripping just from telling the story. Jensen doesn’t even glance at it.

“Jen?” Jared says.

He wants to slap Jared for not seeing it yet.

“Baby,” Jensen says slowly, tears filling his eyes now as all the emotions about that day that he’d kept so carefully tucked away flood to the surface. “Don’t you get it?”

And yeah, Jared had smoked a joint just before they fucked, but surely he’s not as high as his uncomprehending eyes make him look. He sits up even more, legs tugged up until he’s cross-legged and frowning in confusion at Jensen.

“What… I don’t--”

“It was _me_!” Jensen exclaims, a sob choking him immediately. He’s trembling all over now that he’s finally said it, his eyes blurring with hot tears. He rushes at Jared, climbing into his lap just like he had apparently all those years ago-- _ohmygod_ \--his arms wrapping up tight around his neck. “Jenny. That was me! Babe, that was _me_.”

“No,” Jared says, pushing Jensen back just enough to meet his eyes. He shakes his head in disbelief, but Jensen can see the realization starting to happen. He sits back on Jared’s lap, that fat dick nestling between his soft ass as he waits Jared out.

His heart leaps when it finally happens.

“Holy shit,” Jared whispers.

“It was _me_ ,” Jensen sobs, clutching at Jared’s arms, at his face, pulling him in to rub their foreheads together and kiss desperately at his mouth. “It was me. I was your little wife. You were my first kiss. You were my first… my first everything. _You_ were. You changed my life. You… I thought you weren’t real. I thought I made you up. All these years, I thought I had made you up.”

“How,” Jared mumbles, too stunned to even react to Jensen’s kisses, to the clutching pull of his hands. “Ohmygod. How did we do that? How did I find you? How was it _you_?”

“You were meant to find me,” Jensen says into his mouth, tears wetting both of their cheeks but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t fucking care. “You were so perfect. I told Danni, but she never believed me. She said I was lying. I used to make up shit all the time like that. But… but you were so real. You were different. I could taste you. I could still taste you, even years later.”

“Jenny,” Jared says, leaning back to search Jensen’s eyes. “You… fuck. _Fuck._ ”

Jared gathers him up against his chest and leans forward, holding Jensen against him as he rustles around in his cubby built into the wall. Jensen nestles down against him, tucks his nose against Jared’s neck, and breathes him in gratefully.

They settle back in again, and Jared’s got what looks like an old camera bag now, an ugly gray thing with a plastic buckle and a black strap, and he opens it up and digs around until he finds--

A snack-sized ziploc bag gets pulled out and opened, and Jared pulls out a seemingly random, unimportant popsicle stick.

“That…” he starts, looking between the little wooden stick and Jensen’s tearful eyes. “I just… I never forgot that day. Never forgot you. Never.”

Jensen sniffles, honest to fuck sniffles, and he tries to wipe away his tears before Jared teases him about them. He cranes around to the top self on Jared’s bunk, the one Jared cleaned out just for him to use, for all the silly contents of his backpack that he’d traveled with across the country.

He unearths a beaten-up copy of _Sarah_ by JT Leroy, opening up to the middleish where he’d left off and digging out his bookmark.

He holds it up to show Jared. Taps it against the matching one in Jared’s hand.

“Me either,” he says.

Jared stares for a long time at the twin popsicle sticks held in a lazy X between them, both darker on one end than the other, probably forever discolored with years of spit (and Jensen’s with lube and boyjuice from being used as a dildo, just for sentimentality). The look on his face is something Jensen will never forget but that he’ll never have words for, and the way Jared closes his eyes and digs his forehead hard against Jensen’s says more than anything their mouths ever could.

“Get on my dick,” Jared whispers after a long moment, reaching down with his free hand and grabbing Jensen around the waist to get him positioned just right, “little wife.”

Jensen beams, laughing in a broken, sobby kind of way as they both drop their little wooden sticks and work to feed Jared’s dick back into Jensen’s body, and maybe it’s better this time than it ever, ever has been before.

 

\---

 

“I feel ridiculous.”

It’s sunny out and absolutely burning up in the abandoned playground of an elementary school they’d dug up in Whereverthefuck, Utah on the way to Reno, and he’s wearing a brand new baby pink hoodie zipped up over his GG Allin crop top.

“You look like a fuckin’ wet dream. Now, c’mere,” Jared orders with a snap of his fingers that makes Jensen’s pussy wet. He hops to it and scampers over towards him, grabbing hold of Jared’s hand and letting himself be pulled along the empty schoolyard where no child is on July nineteenth.

It’s his man’s birthday, bitches.

“Ooooh, can we fuck on the slides?!” Jensen exclaims, tugging Jared away from the trees and toward the jungle gym.

Jared laughs, a short, awkward noise, but it’s a laugh anyway. Jensen’s heart melts like the ice cream in the bag dangling from Jared’s finger that they’d had to go to seven different gas stations to find.

“Later,” he says, rerouting them back to the shade, to the line of trees along the edge. “But you’ve gotta do something for me first.”

Jensen’s heart is in his throat when he kneels down in the grass under the tree and opens a Pink Panther bar, and he can’t help but kiss at Jared’s hands as he opens his jeans and digs that very same cock out that Jensen had first fallen in love with all those years ago. And maybe to Jared it doesn’t seem like very long, but it was a lifetime to Jensen, to a seven-year-old who fell in love way too fast.

Jensen looks right up into Jared’s eyes as he licks at the strawberry and vanilla ice cream bar, knowing exactly what he’s doing this time. Jared leans back against the tree and holds his dick out, hissing with surprise when Jensen lays his ice cream bar flat against Jared’s cock and smears it all over.

“Fuck!” Jared laughs, reaching down to grip Jensen’s head much harder than he did way back when.

Jensen smirks at him, gazing up through his lashes even as he catches the tip of Jared’s fat dick, tongue flicking at the thick piercing before he takes him across his tongue and down his now-bottomless throat, tasting salt and strawberry and nostalgia, the flavor of first love, of fate.

“Good girl,” Jared whispers, tucking Jensen’s hair behind his ear and settling back as Jensen starts to move on his dick, warm all over from the praise, for being a part of this completed circle.


End file.
